All of These Lines Across My Face
by ThievesCantSpeak
Summary: Words. No matter what language is spoken by one person, it may be understood by another. However, just because two can speak to each other doesn't mean they can understand. AU ; Thiefshipping
1. Prologue

**Summary****:** Words. No matter what language is spoken by one person, it may be understood by another. However, just because two can speak to each other doesn't mean they can understand.

* * *

From a young age, Marik could tell that living underneath everyone wasn't the norm, for it was only he and his family that walked through the tunnels. After hearing of his family's trips and whatnot, it wasn't hard to decipher that there was more to the world that he saw before him. However, Marik didn't necessarily _hate_living down below ; in fact, he enjoyed the coolness of the earth that surrounded him, relaxed him. But as a child, he was curious like most. His father disappeared every now and then, going up to the outside world—as he and his siblings christened it—for food and other various supplies. The young Egyptian couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to venture off, to walk _on _the ground, rather than live below it. Before his mother's passing, she would weave these wonderful stories of how the color blue stretched far beyond the horizon, and how a gold ball would float in that endless blue until nighttime, where a silver ball took its place. Those sort of things intrigued Marik far more than the pieces of silver, gold and sapphire he had to protect. Oh, how it would be to feel something warm for once and to play in the sunlight. But just as his mother's time was nearing its end, so were his chances of pursuing his dreams.

"I cannot allow it," was the answer his father always gave without fail. "Now, go to bed and get those ridiculous ideas out of your mind."

_That would be impossible_, he wanted to say. However, he held back his words. It was never his intention to anger his father in any way, but he wanted to go outside more than anything else. Somebody had to understand his desires, right? He stood at the doorway of his older sister's quarters, knowing that she had once ventured outside with their father several times. She could sneak him out for an hour or so, couldn't he?

"Absolutely not," she said.

"But Ishizu," Marik pleaded, "Even just for a moment, I'd like to—"

"—I'm sorry, but it cannot be." Ishizu replied as her younger brother's face fell in defeat. She offered him a small smile as she smoothed her hand over his head repeatedly in hopes of calming him. But try as she might, her motherly presence could not stop Marik's tears from falling. She quickly looked up, checking to see if there was anyone who could possibly listen. When she saw that it was relatively safe, Ishizu cleared her throat. "Perhaps in a few days," she whispered. The young boy wiped his tears with the back of his hand, staring at Ishizu in disbelief and wonder. "R-Really?" he asked, only to be hushed and have his mouth covered with his older sister's hand.

"I'll ask father if I can take you on your birthday," she said. "It's not that far away, alright?"

A smile tugged at Marik's lips as he nodded. "Thank you!" he half-whispered, half-shouted. He ran off into his room and laid down on his bed. _Soon_, he thought to himself. _I'll be there very soon_.

* * *

As their father let out a vigorous laugh, Marik's face flushed a deep, embarrassed shade of crimson as he hid behind Ishizu, whose face was tightening with anger. Once their father's laughter subsided, he looked up and met Ishizu's eyes as they were radiating with exasperation. He matched her gaze with an annoyed one as he stood up from his seat and cleared his throat. "I've said it before," he said, his voice bellowing throughout the underground. "Marik is forbidden to enter the outside world! He is the oldest son, and must fulfill his duty to the Pharaoh!" As the older man rambled on, Marik saw that his sister's fists were balling up into fists as she clenched her jaw. It was rare to see Ishizu so angry on his account. Strange as it was, Marik felt his own anger building up inside of him from the pit of his stomach.

"Why should I have to be a prisoner here?" he shouted, leaving the safety of his sister's shadow. "Why am I being treated like a criminal that has to stay trapped? Why can't I_enjoy_something for once? Why can't I—" Marik was cut off by his father's fist, tears sprouting as an unsettling warmth collected in his cheek. "A _prisoner_?" his father repeated. "If anyone knew how great Pharaoh Atem was and were in your place, they would feel honored! You shame yourself for denying your destiny!"

"Father, that's enough!" Ishizu shouted as she held out her arms in a protective manner. "Marik has had enough!" She knelt down to her younger brother and offered her hand. "Come. You should rest," she said as he reluctantly reached for her hand and followed her into her room. Her eyes gazed over at his bruise as she lightly brushed her fingers over it.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm really, really sorry."

* * *

By the time Marik had roused from his short slumber, everyone else remained in deep sleep, thinking of nothing other than their sweet, sweet dreams. However, unlike his family, the young Egyptian was very close to finally grasping his own dream with his hands. _Please, for one night_, he thought as he crept through the tunnels, feeling his way to the stairway he knew would lead him to his first and perhaps only chance at freedom. As he ascended, feeling the passageway shifting upwards, Marik was sure that he reached the bottom of the stairwell. _This is it_, he kept telling himself.

_My first taste of freedom._

To his surprise, the outside world was turning, much like the world he had just left. The air was much colder than he expected, but he couldn't tell if he was trembling from the cold or from sheer excitement. In front of him was a pile of sand that was much different than the grains in his home. He was surprised at its texture as he crawled across the dune. The boy stumbled as he got stood up, as his legs weren't used to the sand. However, he continued on, not once looking back. Instead of worrying about his home, he focused on the darkening crimson sky set out before him. There was a word for this time of day, but he couldn't remember what it was. All he remembered was how the world was set aglow after the hours had passed and coming to its end ; something beautiful.

As he continued to wander off, he noticed that there were several structures not too far from him, sitting on the horizon. His curiosity captured him, his legs carrying him closer. However, the more he traveled, the more he could he an echo of cries. It was then that Marik questioned the world around him even further, wondering if his father was right. Was the outside world truly a dangerous place?

"Hey! You!"

Marik felt his body tense up at the voice as it resonated around him. Hesitantly, the boy turned around to see its owner, only to be relieved that it wasn't directed at him. Several yards away from him was a pair of two men riding on camels, their faces hidden behind peculiar masks. They seemed to be bickering and began to become increasingly hostile towards each other.

"It wasn't my fault that he got away!" one of them shouted as he got off his camel, clutching something in his hands. The other got off his camel as well, holding a similar item.

"Well, if you hadn't actually _let go _of him, he'd still be here!" the other retorted.

"If you secured the shackles like you said you did, we wouldn't have this problem!"

"Oh, so it's _my _fault now?"

As they kept spitting their accusations back and forth to each other, Marik began to back away, taking small steps. However, once he tripped, a small scream left his mouth, leaving his hands to cover his lips. But oh, it was too late. The two men had spotted him and called out to him, asking what he was doing. And the natural response? The boy ran.

It was futile to run when the men had an advantage ; Marik knew that. But to have his life in danger was enough to make him run, in hopes to live and to keep on living. In the desert, there is nothing but dunes, so where was he to hide? He wasn't too far from his home, but he had already forgotten where to look. He was so captured by the sky and its endlessness that he didn't bother to mark the trail he came.

The hoofbeats increase in sound, but Marik was far too tired to continue on. In the coolness of the afterglow, his legs gave up, leaving him to stumble. From there, everything was hazy. However, instead of two men, there seemed to be three of them. But that third man seemed to be different. In contrast to the original two, who held their fists up in hostility, this man offered a savior's hand.


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One: When Word Got Out**

_The sky is such a strange thing._

_It sounded so magical, like my mother made it up as a sort of fantasy for me to believe in._

_To think that something could actually go on forever..._

_I want to see the sky_

_If I could, even for just a moment..._

_I would know what it's like to be free_

* * *

It would be a lie to say that he wasn't terrified. After all, he was in a place he didn't know. Marik didn't know what to do, or how to think in this sort of situation. From what he remembered, two men were chasing after him in the desert as the daylight dissolved into night. But against the flaming sky, there was another man who reached out to him with eyes that radiated the same intensity of the setting sun. His memories came slowly, much like the clouds of the earlier incident. The man had saved him - picked him up and raised him from the sands that would drown him to his end. Although there were still patches of his recollections that remained hazy, Marik knew one thing for sure: he felt safe.

Now that his eyes were fully open, the young boy observed his surroundings. From what he could tell, there wasn't much around him in the first place. All that was in front of him was a bowl of flat bread, a pitcher of water and a fire with an peculiar spark. He slowly arose from the ground when he noticed that he was covered with a scarlet cloak, lined with gold etchings. With delicate movements, he folded the cloak and set it aside, his eyes set on the bread. Even though his sister had taught him manners, to never do anything unless he was told to, Marik's stomach was practically begging him to eat.

Not giving much thought, he grabbed the bowl and began to devour the bread, as if he had never eaten before. Then again, when he gave it some thought, there wasn't much variety in his diet. He mostly ate what his father called "vegetables" and to eat bread would mean that a special occasion would come to pass. But the more he swallowed, the more he couldn't help but think, "What about my family?"

"I see you're awake."

Marik quickly looked up, his eyes trembling. The voice he heard felt so familiar, and yet he was certain that he never met its owner. When he looked up, he was startled as a man emerged from the shadows. He had unusual, silver hair that confused the young boy even more. The only person he knew of with silver hair was his father. So did that mean this man was just as old? Marik believed so, until he got a better look at the man's face as he came closer to the light. Although his skin looked fairly worn - perhaps from hard work? - the man's complexion was fairly fresh with defined features. So was this man relatively young then? As the boy tried to read the man's face, he couldn't help but notice a scar that went from his eyelid to beneath his eye. Was he possibly blind? Marik had so many questions, and he didn't even know where to start.

The man's eyes narrowed into thin, glaring slits, making Marik even more uneasy. He quickly threw the bread aside, terrified of what the man would say. The man only continued to glare at him, and before he knew it, Marik began to cry. Never before was he put in this sort of situation, being alone with another person who could be potentially dangerous. He let out a fine, fine cry, begging for his life, to be set free, and for forgiveness from his father.

"Stop it now," the man hissed as he came closer to the boy. However, this only upset Marik even more as his wailing continued. The man continued regardless and covered Marik's mouth with his hand, muffling his screams.

"I'll tell you one more time," he said. "Stop it."

Marik wasn't sure what to do. Should he listen to this man? Should he trust him at all. For some strange reason, however, even though the man was intimidating in appearance and with words, there was a hint in his eyes that he was not all that terrible. After calming down somewhat, the boy nodded, the last of his tears trickling down to his chin. "Good boy," the man said as he pulled his hand away and patted Marik's head. "That wasn't so bad, was it," the older muttered as he walked to where the boy was once sleeping and picked up the red cloak. Marik watched him, debating whether or not he should ask for the man's name or the location. Hell, he wasn't even sure if he should bother to stick around so that he could ask. After all, he could just leave, couldn't he? If the man didn't want him to leave, wouldn't he be bound to something to ensure his stay?

"I'm assuming that you're just a quiet kid," the man continued. "You're not staying here long, so you'll be back home soon. I can't be responsible if something happens to you." He eyed the bowl of bread for a moment, making Marik wonder if he shouldn't have eaten most of it. He began to back away slowly, but this only made the man push to bowl towards him. The boy stared at the bread curiously until the man glared at him. "Go ahead and eat up. You'll need your energy for later."

There was no doubt that Marik placed no trust in this man, but he was still so hungry that he couldn't help but obey the man's orders. He took the bread in his hands once more and began to eat, even after reaching the point of satisfaction. The flavor and texture of it all made him happy and sad at the same time, for this would probably be the last time he'd be able to eat like this. However, as he reached over to the pitcher to relieve his dry throat, the boy was interrupted by a wave of marching footsteps that gave him the same sensation as the hoofbeats in the desert. He watched closely as a group of men with the bottom half of their faces covered with cloth as make-shift masks.

"Master Akefia," one of the men said.

_Huh... Akefia_, Marik thought. _So that's his name._

"Everything's been set up." The man quickly glanced over at Marik, only to refocus his gaze on Akefia. "We can start as early as tomorrow morning."Akefia nodded as he put his hand to his chin in consideration of the given situation. _That's faster than I expected_, he thought.

"Alright. All of you can rest until further notice," he instructed. However, before the men could express their master's gratitude, he continued on. "Just make sure not to leave this place in case of emergency." His men saluted him and dispersed from the room. As Akefia turned around, he noticed that the boy nearly ate all of the bread and drank half the pitcher of water. _This is good_, he thought. _It won't be long now_.

Marik's sight had never wavered ; for that entire time, he had watched Akefia talking to his men in wonder. What sort of things were they planning? Were they good or bad and even if they were, could the boy tell the difference? Either way, there was one thing Marik was sure of: he thought Akefia was rather intriguing.

* * *

It was towards the end of the day when the boy decided to explore the premises. From what he saw, the soldier he'd seen earlier had no real interest in him. Every once in a while, a soldier would shoot him a disgusted look for reasons he couldn't understand. Only once did a soldier stop to ask what he was up to, and when Marik couldn't give a straight answer, the man just let him be. Marik wanted to ask which door led to the outside world, but he knew that the more he would try to leave, the more they would try to keep him there. It was frustrating, really, but what could he do? With the soldiers and their knives... Marik didn't stand a chance.

"And where do you think you're going?"

Marik turned around to find Akefia glaring at him, his arms crossed over his chest. The boy offered a small, nervous smile that only proved to anger the older man even more. "I'm sorry," Marik said after a few false starts. "I just thought this place was so interesting..."Akefia raised a brow as he cocked his head to the side. "'Interesting,' huh?"

The boy nodded eagerly, his eyes shining. "I've never been in a place this big before! There's so many big rooms and people are coming and going!"

"And what?" the elder asked, as though trying to confirm something. "That aspect alone is enough to make you wander around? Just because—" He was cut off by a rapid round of screams coming from the entrance way. As the other soldiers scattered about in chaos, Akefia let out a piercing whistle that commanded his followers to halt in their places.

"This is what we've trained for, men," he barked, making Marik cover his years. "We won't let these intruders get away that easily! He then looked at Marik and signaled him to follow after him. "Don't lag behind, or else." Marik obliged, following like the obedient child that he was raised to be. Although, with everyone running amok, throwing daggers at the enemy, keeping up with someone older proved to be a challenge. It didn't matter if he was smaller and more elusive ; Marik was never trained to run away. At home, he was to be guarded. Always. He had no need to learn how to use a weapon in self-defense or to run away from situations such as this. Before he knew it, the boy had already lost Akefia and wasn't sure who he could turn to. While everyone was out there fighting, defending their own life, who would be there to help him?

"Get your ass over here!" someone shouted, grabbing Marik by his hair. He let out a shrill yelp and he tried to fight off the stranger's grip. The stranger took hold of his tunic and did his best to keep his hold on the boy, only to rip his clothes from the seams, revealing the scars on his back. At first the man winced at the hideous sight, for who could come to care for something so defiled? Marik saw this as a chance and did his best to gather himself, but the man was took quick. He was being dragged along the floor by his hair once more, screaming and begging for his life. Just like the previous two times, Marik recalled something his father warned him. Men would kidnap children, male and female alike, and sell them as slaves to the palace or to foreign lands. He was already a servant to a deceased pharaoh, and he couldn't stand to be a servant to another.

_I don't want to die a servant._

_I want to be free._

_I want to be free!_

The echoes of the men around him seemed to grow even more distant as he felt a sharp pain in his head. Marik felt himself slipping out of consciousness, his eyes growing heavier by the second. It was then that he saw that saving hand.

_… will he be the one to set me free?_


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two: Scream It to The Nothingness**

The harsh climates of the desert began to lessen as the day came to an end. The daylight faded into a dark wash across the sky, the sun sinking below the horizon. Weeks had passed since the boy's separation from his family, not that he minded entirely. Of course, there were moments when Marik yearned for the motherly affection his sister gave, for she was the only person other than their late mother that showed understanding and sympathy. It wasn't as if Marik's older brother, Odion, didn't hold any affections for him. However, every child has a strong bond with a mother or a motherly-figure (in this case, both). For some reason, the boy missed his sister dearly and yet this was the first time he felt that he could truly be. He hadn't brought it up with Akefia, but he wanted to express his desire of visiting his sister at some point during their passing.

Marik often questioned why he hadn't left on his own. For one, he wouldn't know the basics of survival and chances were, he'd die within a few days from starvation, as he didn't hold the capacity to steal. Another reason would be that for the first time in his young life, Marik met someone outside of the family that he could refer to as a friend. Other than his siblings - or his whole family for that matter, the family guards were the only ones who lived underground with them. The only time the Ishtar's would have visitors of any kind would be during a time of crisis for the current pharaoh.

"Um... Akefia," Marik murmured as his grip around the elder's waist tightened. He merely continued to steer the camel towards a rather small settlement on the horizon. The boy cleared his throat as a small ounce of confidence rose from his chest. "Where are we going?"

"We're going to pay someone a visit," the elder murmured. "Now hush, we're nearly there."

The boy nodded and kept his mouth closed throughout most of the travel. During the past several days, he felt learned to never question his captor's decisions. It would only prove to be counter-productive. As long as he obeyed every word, Marik would not have to meet Akefia's wrath. Whenever he disobeyed the slightest direction, his consequences were great, yet not truly unfair. In other words, Marik didn't feel all that far from home.

* * *

The night had grown very cold. Since the boy only wore a thin tunic, he felt as if he might not survive another night. It had been long since he had slept in a bed of sorts and he figured that he would have been used to it by that point. But to live by himself without the warmth of another person... that was something he couldn't stand to bare. As agonizing as it was, he wasn't too worried. After all, he would join the others soon. In a few moments, his self-inflicted wounds would be the end of him, not that he minded. As he laid there in the sand under the dark sky, he turned his head and saw a few men in the distance, coming towards him. He felt a smile tug at his lips as he was slipping into unconsciousness for the final time. His eyes glanced over at the cold body next to him. Marik once found it amusing how the man was so terrified of being captured rather than dying. And now, the man was at peace, even though it left the boy to suffer - but this would soon end.

"A - Akefia," Marik whispered hoarsely, his eyes growing heavier. He knew that the man couldn't hear him anymore, but the boy still felt the need to speak to him. "It looks like we beat 'em. They can't catch us now."

* * *

Marik's eyes shot open, his chest rising and falling rapidly as a few drops of sweat formed on his forehead. Once he realized that he was still in bed and that it was still too early for him to be awake, he let out a sigh of relief. These dreams have never once persisted, and he had the feeling that they didn't plan on to. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand as he finally caught his breath, slightly more relaxed than moments ago. He often wondered what the purpose of the dreams were, or if they served as one at all. Hell, he wasn't even sure if it was normal to dream of events that fell in a sequence, like a story. But what made this recent string of dreams strange was that they were more broken up with large gaps between them. _I should go back to sleep_, he thought. Just as he was about to close his eyes once more, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," he replied, surprised - yet relieved - to see Ishizu. She did her best to smile, but this only upset her brother.

"You were screaming in your sleep again," she said as she approached Marik's bed, sitting on the edge.

"O - Oh," Marik stuttered, embarrassed. "Was I that loud?"

"Hm, more-so than before." Ishizu's eyes shifted, taking her brother's hand in hers. "Care to tell me about it?"

Marik sat up straight and tucked a few strands of hair behind his ear, trying to find a place to start. "Do you remember the stories mother told us when we were younger? Y'know, about our family's ancestors?" Ishizu nodded, signaling for her brother to continue. "I dreamt that we were back at home, but the pharaoh still ruled. We were tending to one of the pharaoh's tombs. And then I was captured by this thief. He was pretty nice, though. But then..." The younger's eyes drifted into the threads of his blanket. "... we died, just like that."

"Can you remember anything else?" she asked.

Marik shook his head. "Not really... it kinda jumped around a bit. There's still a lot missing."

"That's interesting," she replied. "Well, what I can tell you is this: your dreams are serving as your guide. You must pay close attention to them. After all, what would be the purpose of you dreaming them so many times if they had no meaning." She gave him a small smile and patted his hand. "Now, go back to sleep. You have a big day ahead of you tomorrow, alright?"

As she left him, Marik couldn't quite understand what Ishizu meant. He often relied on her advice, as an older sibling as well as a fortune teller of sorts. Reading his own dreams would prove to be difficult, but Marik was always obedient. He would follow his sister's advice to the best of his ability no matter what.

_Red_, he thought. _The color that stood out the most._

_… I hate that color._


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three: Run of Bad Luck**

When Marik awoke at the appropriate time, he felt an uncomfortable pressure in his head. It had been years since he experienced these terrible headaches, but now that he thought about it, they never really ceased. He moved towards the edge of the bed and let out a loud yawn as he arched his back and stretched his arms back. Once he felt ready, Marik got up and began to change his clothes. He mulled over what to wear the previous night, as he wanted to make a good impression. This would be his first day at Domino University, and the last thing he wanted was to make others thinking badly of him.

As a son of an Egyptian chargé d'affaires, Marik gained several privileges, such as attending a prestigious school. Although he would have preferred Ishizu's way of life — one that was free — the young man didn't necessarily mind it. The hardest part of all was trying to pretend that he _wasn't_the son of a diplomat. He just wanted to be himself. Just plain ol' Marik. And what part of that was difficult?

"Marik," Ishizu called from downstairs. He looked at his reflection in the mirror on his desk with a small, triumphant "hmph." He didn't look unordinary or extraordinary. He just was.

"Good morning!" he chimed as he rushed down the stairs. The house was fairly spacious, but not like their estate back in Egypt. Each person had their own room and used the study if the other rooms were too distracting. The kitchen was large enough so that Ishizu could cook to her heart's content, Marik helping from time to time. He had learn a few dishes from her, but as skilled as he was, his dishes didn't share the same passionate flavor his sister's did. As he entered the kitchen, he noticed that both Ishizu and Odion were sitting at the table, a plate of pita bread, olives and yogurt set up for him.

"Good morning," Odion said with a small nod. "Do you feel any better?"

"Just a bit," Marik replied as he walked over to the counter to pour himself a cup of coffee. He felt his stomach twisting in embarrassment, hoping that there wouldn't be another long conversation about what he dreamed about. "Although I still have a bit of a headache." The older of the two smiled, something that was rare for the other to see. "Just take it easy," he reminded the younger. Marik nodded as he sat down, just realizing that someone was missing from the table. "Did dad leave already," he asked as he tore off a piece of the bread and dipped it into the yogurt.

"Yes," said Ishizu as she joined her brothers at the table. "He was already gone by the time I woke up." She took a sip of her honey tea, letting its sweetness soak in her mouth before continuing. "It must've been a real emergency."

"I can't imagine anything that would get him out of bed that early," Odion commented, shaking his head as he picked up the newspaper that was laid out on the table. "The again, he said his boss was driving him up the wall."

"Tch, who cares," Marik blurted out. "He wanted the job, so now he has to live with it."

"You shouldn't say things like that," Ishizu remarked, getting up to put away her cup. "Dad works very hard so that the three of us live comfortably."

"She's right," Odion affirmed. "If it weren't for him, we wouldn't get to travel to all of these places."

Their kind reflections only angered Marik even more. " 'Comfortable'? Since _when_? I still have to do everything he says."

"He's our father," his sister said more firmly. "We should listen to him regardless. Besides, you'll be eighteen within a few months." She turned on the water to rinse her cup as Marik took a couple of bites from his bread. "Yeah, like I can honestly wait until then," he muttered. Ishizu heaved a sigh and shook her head. "Now, now. Finish your breakfast. It's almost time for you to go."

"Speaking of leaving," Odion said as he folded the newspaper and placed it back on the table. "I should head over to the study. Dad said something about translating documents. I'll see you both later." He stood up and left the kitchen, not stopping until he reached a door at the end of the hall.

"So what are your plans for today?" Marik asked Ishizu, fully aware of her job. Although she had to work, Marik always thought that she was lucky, for she was able to do something she loved and made a profit from it to help support the family even further. But what made him happy was seeing how much she enjoyed others by telling their fortunes and giving advice when others actually wanted it. "Well, I have a client I need to see later, but that's not until this afternoon," she replied.

"Hm... you're so lucky..." he murmured as he gulped down some of his coffee. "I guess I'll get going now." He got up from the table and put his dishes in the sink. "I_might_come by at lunch or something."

With that, he left the house not wanting to say much more. It wasn't as if the short conversation about their father hit a nerve, but to say that there wasn't a conflict between the father and son would be a complete lie. In short, Marik started to grow to hate his father about seven years back, when he was just a boy. After his mother had died, he and his siblings had to step up in responsibilities. While Ishizu took the place of their mother in terms of chores and counsel and Odion helped their father with whatever work was available, Marik was forced to study. His father wanted him to become some sort of genius that he could proudly show off to his co-workers. But that's not what Marik wanted. He didn't want to be some trophy or toy to be played with. Why was it only his life that had to be treated like a competition, like a game? Since then, Marik rarely spoke to his father and did as he was told, even though he hates it more than anything. There are times when in the depths of his consciousness, a voice tugs at him and tells him to disobey every order his father gave, but it proved to be unfruitful.

The moment he walked a block from his house, Marik felt instantly that he was going the wrong direction. He didn't understand why he and his siblings had to follow their father to every country he had to visit. For instance, they were currently in Japan, and this made things all the more complicated. Not only did the family have to cram so that they could understand the basics of the foreign language, but they had to learn various customs, all just for a temporary stay. And what's the point of trying to grasp a concept if you were never meant to keep a grip on it in the first place?

* * *

To say that Domino University was vast would be a complete understatement. Not only were there several campuses in the various districts of the city, but each said campus were complete with at least four buildings that accompanied the main building. Luck for Marik, he was sent to the closest one near his home, although it was still a long train ride away. Although he was used to crowded streets and trains, being in a large city pushed it to a whole new level. In fact, it caused him to be late to his first class entirely and a few minutes late for his second.

"Ah, I was beginning to wonder where you were," said the teacher as Marik walked in, trying to catch his breath. "That was cutting it pretty close."

"Y-Yes, um..." Marik's eyes shifted about the room. "It was hard to get here."

"Well, at least you made it." The teacher pointed to the rest of the seats that were reasonably filled up with students. "Pick any seat you'd like."

He nodded as he surveyed the room once more, looking for a good seat. Personally, he didn't care either way where he sat. He could be in the back and show that he didn't give a damn, or pretend to be a so-called model student (or just a smart, pain in the ass for everyone else) by sitting in the front. In the end, he sat down somewhere by the wall in the middle, not too far from the door. It hadn't been long and already people were staring at him then turning back to their friends, whispering about him — not that Marik really cared all that much. As long as the teachers were happy with him, that would be enough to please his father, so he didn't really worry about the students.

However, as class began, Marik's mind already began to wander away from a subject he thought he would love: ancient civilizations. As a child, he and his siblings were entertained by stories of their homeland during the its peak of power. How the pyramids were built, how pharaohs ruled and all the traditions were foreign, outdated concepts compared to today's society and yet Marik couldn't help but find them interesting. But what interested him the most was the idea of reincarnation, how the soul comes back to earth after already living once — or more. He read various arguments over the philosophy and found that the most intriguing argument deals with the purpose of reincarnation. Did it mean that there is no Heaven, Hell or Purgatory to go to after one dies? Or has a person not fulfill their destiny or find their true happiness? Or is being reincarnated a curse, so that the soul will never enter paradise?

Marik began to look around the room again, wondering if there was a person he could ask for the work so that he could be caught up with everything. From what he learned, schools in Japan started school in the spring and ended in the winter. However, in various other countries — including Egypt — school started in the fall. Although it was almost nearly too late to be considered a transfer student, the school accepted him anyway, of course, not without some sort of financial bribe. Marik would have preferred to have waited until the next school year (or maybe not even attend at all), but his father insisted that he have a structure to his day.

_Hm... maybe I'll ask this person_, he thought, eying someone who sat in front of him. He opened his notebook to a blank page and tore off a corner as quietly as possible. After scribbling his request, he poked the student in front of him with his pen. The student jerked a bit, surprised at Marik's touch, then turned around slowly, only to see Marik extending a folded piece of paper towards him. He took the paper, much to Marik's relief and responded immediately, returning the paper which read, '_Sure. I'll lend you my notes after class._'

When class was dismissed, Marik began to put his things away slowly, waiting for the other student to turn around and hand over the notebook. He propped his hand on the desk and rested his cheek, tapping the pencil on his desk rather impatiently. It was bad enough that he missed his first class and was late to this one. He didn't want to miss the next class and planned on getting there on time. Finally, the student turned around with a notebook in his hand. However, once the two made eye contact, Marik felt uneasy. The student in front of him seemed so familiar. His eyes were an amber brown with soft features. His hair was white and framed his face and he sported a gentle smile. _Just like that man_, he thought. Marik's eyes widened once the student began to talk, for even their voices sounded similar.

"I hope this will be helpful," he said, placing the notebook in front of Marik. The latter simply nodded, taking the notebook into his own hands. Their hands made brief contact, sending shivers to Marik's core.

* * *

As soon as his last class ended, Marik packed up his things and made his way back home. It wasn't as if the campus food looked _completely_repulsive (though it was fairly questionable), but being on a vegetarian diet for most of his life, Marik would just prefer to go home and whip up something he could actually stomach. Going back home was much easier, now that he knew which train to take to avoid traffic to an extent.

But the instant he reached the front of his home, he heard a crash from within. _A burglar_, was his instant thought as he ran towards the door, searching his pockets for his keys. Before he knew it, the door swung open and the person on the other side made Marik drop his things in an instant. It was his classmate, though his features seemed far more harsh, his warm eyes now cold. He gave Marik a scowl and left without once looking back. For the longest time, Marik stood frozen, wondering what was going on. Just a couple of hours ago, his classmate was gentle, calm and collected. What could have made him act so differently?

_I should check on Ishizu_, he thought, rushing in. When he saw her in the hallway, she had a broom and a dustpan in her hands, sweeping up a broken vase. _Did he really do this? Figures... and I thought he'd be a nice person_.

"Oh! Welcome home," Ishizu said with a smile. "How was school?" Marik continued in cautiously, cocking an eyebrow. "What happened?" he asked.

"Ah, it was just an accident," she said. She looked at him curiously, noticing how uneasy he was. "Hm, what's wrong?"

"Nothing much," Marik said. "... just tired, I guess."

Ishizu walked up to her younger brother and patted him on the head. "Well, if it turns out to be something more, just let me know."

"Alright, I'm going to my room to start on my assignments." He went straight upstairs, not bothering to hear his sister's response. If Ishizu was playing a secrecy game, he could go along with it as well. After all, it would be rather amusing to uncover what his sister was hiding.

* * *

A/N :I hope this is enjoyable so far! Please send in review or whatnot!

Also, this might be sort of random, but I'm looking for someone who will RP thiefshipping with me. Yeah... just putting that out there.

Well, I hope you'll stick around for the next chapter!


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four: When Silly Thoughts Go Through My Head**

Over the course of the next few days, Marik had gotten used to the commute from home to school, even though he had to wake up a tad bit earlier than usual. This of course, made Marik wish that he could live in the dorms versus living at home. Naturally, his father disapproved of his wishes and wanted his son to stay put at home, where he could be under the careful watch of his sister.

It had been another dream-filled night, though his mind was still hazy, for they were not as detailed as the previous ones. However, as he continued on his way to the train station, his dreams flickered in his mind, frame after frame, none of them having a clear connection. He did his best to keep to himself, as he didn't want Ishizu to get too invested into his dreams — they were just dreams, after all. Ever since the day he saw his classmate emerge from his home in a hurry, Marik noticed that there was something a bit off about Ishizu. Not only had she been less attentive towards everything, but she seemed to be lost in her own thoughts for once. Once in a while, Marik would try to strike a conversation with his sister only to have it die out within moments.

When he came down for breakfast, he noticed that Odion was the only one who was awake and at the table. He sat there as always, with a newspaper in his hands and his eyes carefully going over the printed words. He hadn't looked up once as Marik entered, nor did he say much at all. As the younger prepared a light breakfast for himself, the elder merely flipped the pages, continuing his reading. It wasn't until Marik sat down with his meal that he had realized what was bothering him so much: it was the piercing silence.

Now, Marik wasn't one to mind silence. Hell, most of his childhood was spent studying by himself in his father's library, never to leave unless he had to use the restroom. But what he learned from all that time being cooped up in that room was that silence was the loudest noise of all. The fact that it was completely empty and void of all sound made the echoes of everything else unbearable, but not in the way most would think. Once a person becomes accustomed to silence, that is all they will ever desire to hear, as sound itself seems so foreign. It's the same vice versa: once a person is accustomed to noise, they will desire to hear more noise and the thought of silence would seem bizarre. A talkative person wouldn't do well in silence, and a quiet person would find a loud crowd to be unpleasing.

But the question that kept running in Marik's mind was, why would a person want to be submerged in silence when they are completely capable of hearing something beautiful? For Marik, constant chatter always filled his home. Even as he sat in the study as a child, he would hear his siblings in the next room over, talking. Whenever the three of them were left home alone, he would sneak out to talk with his siblings. Just the sound of their voices, Ishizu's soothing voice and Odion's gentle chuckle, made him happy.

"Good morning," said Marik as he took a sip of coffee, its bitterness more overpowering than normal. He drank it regardless ; he needed the caffine. Odion only grunted in reply, still reading. Every now and then he would glance over at his younger brother, only to shift his gaze just as quickly.

Marik heaved a sigh, knowing that he would never win.

"I'll see you later," he said, having barely touched his food. Just as he expected, Odion didn't say as much as a "good bye," "see you later" or even a simple, "okay." His eyes were still focused, never wavering.

* * *

_They're both acting really strange_, he thought as the train approached. However, as he began to walk to the designated area, someone had crashed into him, bringing both of them down. Marik seemed to recuperate faster than the other, although his right side was now sore from its rapid contact with the cement platform.

"Sorry about that!" said the other person. Marik watched as his assaulter brushed himself off and stood up, his legs trying to find a sense of balance. He was rather short with an immature, child-like face and yet the determined glimmer in his eyes puzzled Marik. The boy extended his hand, offering his assistance.

"You're not hurt that badly, are you?" he asked Marik. The Egyptian shook his head and put his hand in the boy's, allowing him to help him up.

"No, I think I'll be fine," he replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me—"

"—hey!" the boy said, cutting him off. He smiled and for some reason was elated to come to his conclusion. "You're that new guy in second!"

Marik raised a brow, confused. He didn't even think they could be the same age, let alone in the same classroom. Perhaps he had mistaken him for the wrong person? However, that glimmer seemed to tell Marik otherwise. The other nodded, putting his hand on his chin.

"Yup, I knew it," he continued. "Second period Ancient Civilizations, right?"

"Well, I'll be," Marik said, putting on a fake smile. "Guess you got me there." He turned around, watching as the train he was hoping to catch had already came and went. _Well, that's just great_, he thought. Then it dawned to him: if this person went to the same school, why wasn't he freaking out over missing the train? As far as Marik knew, the next train would be in half an hour.

"Yeah, me and my friend though it was kinda weird that you would transfer so late." He seemed to carry on the conversation without much thought or worries. _Huh, that's right_, he thought. _The school system is different here_.

"That's because back home, school's just starting," he explained.

"Oh," the other said. "So where are you from originally?"

Before he could explain any further, a girl with short, dark hair and blue eyes was running into the station. Marik had no idea who she was, but it was obvious that the other boy knew her. He gave her a small wave and smiled. "Over here!" he called, waving her over. He leaned over a bit towards Marik, his smile persisting. "That's my friend," he beamed. If Marik wanted to be completely honest, he could care less. But seeing as he had to wait for the next train, he figured that this would be a mediocre way to spend time.

"Yugi! Sorry for keeping you waiting!" she said as she began to slow down. It wasn't until she reached a nearly full stop that she noticed Marik. The Egyptian looked at the boy, then the girl. _So his name is Yugi_...

"Oh, hello." She nodded slightly towards Marik's direction, leaving him to return the gesture.

"I should introduce you," said Yugi. "Well, I'm Yugi Mutou. This is my friend, Anzu Mazaki."

"I'm Marik Ishtar. Nice to meet you."

"Hey Marik, why don't you tag along with us?" Yugi invited. He looked over to Anzu, who nodded in agreement. "Yeah! It'd be fun going with more people. And we can even show you the shortcuts."

"Alright then," Marik replied.

It wasn't soon before long that another train had arrived, then another. The three decided on the next train so that they could transfer to a bus that stopped by one of the university's entrances. Although the trip with Yugi and Anzu proved to be somewhat fruitful, there was an ache in Marik's head that refused to cease.

* * *

When second period rolled around, sure enough, Yugi sat in the front of the class. His face lit up when he saw Marik walk through the door several minutes early. The Egyptian figured as much and decided to walk up to him, sparking a short conversation that scratched the surface on the assignment due at the beginning of class. As much as he hated to admit it, Marik felt that he and Yugi were alike in some ways. They both had a somewhat gentle demeanor in the company of loved ones and both were fairly studious. Although Marik's study skill were forced upon him rather than cultivated by choice, both he and Yugi seemed to have developed a knack for history and the like.

"That's so cool," Yugi said after Marik shared some customs from back home. "I wouldn't mind visiting Egypt one of these days."

"It's alright," said Marik. "I mean, it's not all _that_ special, but there are some interesting things."

"Yeah, but there's the pyramids, and there has to be a bunch of really good museums."

"Hm, they _are_ pretty nice," Marik mused. "I got to visit a few, but there's still a lot that I haven't seen."

A frown tugged at Yugi's lips, much like that of a small child, unable to obtain a prized toy from the store. Even his eyes seemed to lose their spark for a moment. "Aw, why not? If I lived there, I'd take full advantage of everything. There's so much out there that we don't know, so it'd be interesting to see everything with my own eyes."

_Yeah, same here. But I was locked in that damn room_, Marik thought.

"He's right, y'know."

Marik turned around, already knowing who the voice belonged to: Ryou Bakura. Ever since the "incident," Marik made sure not to say too much to the other. A large part of him wanted to grab Ryou by the throat and demand for an answer, but at the same time, he was afraid. Ryou seemed to be gentle at first glance ; knowing that there was an antagonistic side to him made it rather difficult to approach him. The day right after he saw Ryou leave his house, he was "normal" and acted as if nothing had happened. In fact, when Marik tried to insinuate the incident, Ryou showed genuine confusion and had no idea what Marik was talking about. Or maybe he was just good at pretending.

Much like the few previous days, Marik held some defenses up and kept and watched Ryou carefully. He even debated over whether or not he should follow him around and whatnot. As elaborate as the latter seemed, Marik felt it was a perfectly normal course of action to take if it ensure the safety of his family.

"Hm, then maybe I'll check some stuff out when I get home," Marik said.

Timing couldn't be more perfect, the teacher stood up from his desk and announced the start of class leaving Marik and Yugi to exchange their temporary goodbyes. As Marik and Ryou went to their seats, a sharp pain throbbed in Marik's head. He stopped for a moment, holding his head in his hands.

"What's wrong," Ryou asked as he placed a concerned hand on Marik's shoulder. The Egyptian shook his head in response. "I'm alright. It's just a migraine. I'll—"

An audible gasp was emitted from the entire class. Even Ryou, who was calm, gulped loudly for the entire column of seats to hear. His hands began to tremble on Marik's shoulders as his breathing hastened. Marik turned around, his eyes shooting wide open. At the doorway stood someone who looked exactly like Ryou, only more like when he left Marik's house on that day. There was no mistaking it ; there was a glare in his eyes that pierced through Marik all the way to the core and sent shivers down his spine. But that couldn't be. Ryou was right there next to him.

"W - Who..." Marik whispered. "Who's that?"

After a few false starts, Ryou drew in a deep breath and cleared his throat. "Th - That's my brother," he said. "He hasn't shown up to class in _weeks_."

_... well that explains **everything**_.

Without saying any more, Marik and Ryou sat down in their seats, both of them watching as Ryou's brother found a seat in the back of the room. However, as Ryou's brother walked down the row past Marik, he could have sworn that the other brushed against him on purpose. By that point, Marik's mind was running faster than ever before, his skin burning from the other's touch.

* * *

**A/N:** Obvious or not, I kinda got lazy on some parts OTL  
If there's something I'm really terrible with, it would be dialogue between three characters. Two, that's a whole lot easier. Doing a narrative through one person's point of view is even easier. Three people, my mind explodes. I'd like to think that since it's simple, it's better. But at the same time, I feel like I could have written it better. Oh well...


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five: The World That I See Inside You**

_"Th - That's my brother," he said. "He hasn't shown up to class in **weeks**."_

Marik scratched his desk lightly as the class lecture ran its course. He wasn't all that interested in what the teacher was talking about, but rather his own puzzlement. Although he was able to deduce that the other Bakura was probably the one who broke into home, he still had nothing on either brother. From prior experiences, Marik noticed that Ryou was more soft-spoken and genial whereas the other... he seemed to be far more complicated. The fact that he actually slipped into and out of the Ishtar home would be enough evidence that he was a delinquent who had a knack for getting into trouble. But rather than being frightened to upset, Marik was intrigued for more reasons than one. The brothers held a strong resemblance to the man in his dreams, almost to the point that they were nearly identical to him, save for the scar on his eye and their pale skin.

Once class was over, the usual chatter began. Before Marik could get up and leave, he noticed that Yugi was walking over to his desk. At first, he thought that he would spark a conversation with Ryou, but Yugi passed by him and started talking to Marik, much to the latter's surprise. "Hey, I was thinking," he began. "Since you're new and all, why don't you have lunch with me and my friends?"

"Why, that's nice of you to offer," Marik replied. "But I'm not sure..."

"C'mon," Ryou said as he turned around. "It'll be fun!"

_Do they think I can't make any friends_, Marik thought. It wasn't as if he _did_have friends, however. He just preferred to eat alone so that there would be no room for unnecessary conversation. Other than being in the company of others — something Marik didn't particularly care for, he didn't have much reason to be with anyone else.

"I'll see you at home, Ryou."

Ryou's brother came from behind them, not saying anything else as he left the classroom. His cold eyes made Marik uncomfortable as much as it did Ryou, who only responded with a small nod, unable to lift his eyes and make eye contact.

"Hm... maybe I'll join you guys after all," Marik mumbled.

"That's great!" Yugi clapped his hands, effectively ending the awkward silence. "Meet me in the front of the cafeteria!" With that, he left for his next class.

"We should get going," Ryou pointed out as he grabbed his things, directing Marik to do the same.

"Alright. So then I guess I'll see you at lunch, too?" he asked as they left.

"Yeah, I'll see you then!" Ryou replied. "Well, have fun in your next class!"

As Marik waved a short goodbye, he felt a small sting in his head after hoping that his headaches would cease for the day. _Maybe I should go see the nurse_, he thought. Although he knew that he would ignore his headaches either way, Marik figured that he should make things a little easier on himself by getting some aspirin. The other pro in going to the nurse would be that he could potentially miss the first few minutes of class without any sort of repercussions whatsoever. However, a major con would be that the university's "wellness center" was in the recreational building, which was a far ways off from Marik's current location.

Whatever his decision would be, Marik forced himself into the crowded hallway filled with the ringing of various voices that were growing less distant. His headache remained persistent the more he tried to ignore its presence entirely, the voices becoming more distorted. At this point, every word he came across were so obscure that they didn't seem real at all. By the time he gave up deciphering the rambling verses, his legs surrendered to the pain that carved its way into his mind that didn't hesitate to seize victory.

* * *

Compared to previous nights, slipping into unconsciousness gave Marik the best seven minutes of sleep he'd ever had. As his eyes fought their way open, a bright light shone above him and yet it wasn't blinding ; it radiated a warmth that the Egyptian found to be soothing and calming. It wasn't until after several moments that he realized that he was at the nurse's office. However, he wasn't alone. Although he couldn't tell who was with him, he noticed a silhouette of a person on the other side of the curtain that separated them. The nurse was tending to him, giving him a lecture of some sort.

"Honestly, I can't believe that you did this _again_," she sighed as some fabric shifted.

"Just hurry up and help me," the other said. Marik could have sworn he recognized the voice and yet he couldn't quite place it with any face in particular.

"Alright, just let me tend to the other student first." Not knowing what else to do, Marik quickly laid back down and yawn, as if he just woke up. The nurse smiled at him, relieved. She walked over to the side of the bed and patted the top of his head, smoothing her her hand over it several times as a sign of affection.

"You had us worried there for a while," she said. "I was just about to call for an ambulance if I couldn't wake you up."

"Well, my head still hurts," he admitted as he rubbed it with his fingertips. "But other than that I feel fine."

"Did you have an accident prior to the start of school today, such as a fall?"

"Not that I am aware of, ma'am."

"Did you eat breakfast?"

"N - No," he answered hesitantly. _But is that really why?_

"There you go. I have some snacks here, if you'll follow me." She motioned for him to follow as she made her way back around the curtain. As Marik sat back up and gathered himself, he heard the nurse talking to the other student. By the time Marik pulled back the curtain, his eyes subtly widened in surprise. Ryou's brother only glared at him, his face contorting in disgust. The Egyptian quickly looked away, his heart racing. He didn't know what he could have possibly done to the other, aside from catching him leaving his house. Did he think that Marik had already ratted him out, or did he not expect anything to happen whatsoever? In either case, Marik thought it best to keep his distance. And yet, Marik still felt drawn to him and part of him wanted to talk to Ryou's brother. Perhaps he was capable of kindness — or not, but that would be something he could decide once they got to know each other. Without giving it much thought, Marik was staring at him again, much to the other's discomfort.

"What the hell are you staring at?" he muttered, gritting his teeth.

"It's nothing," Marik replied. The other rolled his eyes as Marik scanned him up and down, noticing that there was a bandage wrapped around his left arm. There were few red stains, as the bandages seemed new. But before he could even attempt to ask about it, the nurse came back with a few small snacks. After letting him eat them for, the nurse let him stay for a few minutes until he was sure that he would be okay walking back to class. He looked up at the clock as he was about to leave, realizing that there was still a good chunk of time before classes ended. However, knowing that Ryou's brother wasn't too keen on the idea of having him in his company, Marik left as soon as possible, unable to shake off the headache that brought him there in the first place.

* * *

The cafeteria was far more crowded than Marik had expected. Since the students had the luxury of having an open campus, couldn't really understand why most would rather stay at school with mediocre food. Then again, if he could take advantage of having a free lunch regardless of its quality, he would probably take the chance. Of course, the school wouldn't be serving food that he would be familiar with at home and he hadn't bothered to check if there was a vegetarian menu. Instead, he brought a packed lunch from home, which was basically leftovers from the previous night. As the cafeteria was being filled with people by and by, Marik searched for Yugi. Although the other was fairly short for his age group, Yugi wasn't difficult to find in a crowd.

"Hey there!" Yugi called as Marik walked over to him. "C'mon, everyone's over here."

As he led Marik past a couple of tables, he only recognized two other faces at their designated table: Anzu and Ryou. Among them were three other boys who seemed to be too invested into their own conversation to even bother noticing Marik's presence.

"What's up, Marik?" Anzu asked, motioning for the both of them to sit down. She nudged one of the other guys with her elbow, earning their attention. "You guys, this is Marik. Marik, this is Katsuya, Hiroto and Ryuji."

"Hm... alright, hopefully I can remember that," Marik said, trying his best to put on a friendly demeanor. However, he felt uneasy as the blonde kept staring at him as if he were trying to figure him out.

"Hey... you're the guy that passed out earlier!" said Katsuya with a snap of his fingers.

"Dude, what are you talking about?" Hiroto asked, confused.

"Oh, I heard about that during class," Ryuji clarified. "A teacher came in and said that a student passed out in the hallway before they made it to class."

Marik nodded, confirming their assumptions. "Yeah, that was me. I just had a really bad headache, that's all."

"That doesn't sound right," Anzu commented. "Are you sure you shouldn't be home right now?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, really," he replied. Of course, he felt the need to lie to these people, mainly so that they could move onto a different topic. And Marik knew exactly what he wanted to talk about.

"So Ryou," he began. "What were you saying about your brother earlier?"

"O - Oh, I see," Ryou said, his eyes shifting from side to side. "Well... um... other than this being his first day back—"

"—whoa, wait a second," Katsuya blurted out. "He _actually_came back?" Ryou nodded in response. "Yeah, this morning he just left his room and walked out the front door. Next thing I know, he shows up in second period."

"I was surprised to see him during first," Ryuji admitted. "At first, I thought it was you."

"But I think that it's good he came back," Yugi said.

At this point, Marik was far beyond confused. But rather than ask any questions, he sat back and continued to listen to the conversation between the group of friends.

"But Yugi, he was the one who _bullied_you since our freshman year of high school," Hiroto said, as if he were trying to make sense of Yugi's words. The latter shook his head and smiled. "I know he isn't the nicest person, but it's good that he decided to come back to school."

As the friends continued back and forth, Marik glanced over at Ryou, who had remained quiet, staring at his lunch that he left untouched. Marik felt some guilt twisting at the pit of his stomach. He realized that he was being really selfish in trying to quench his own curiosity at the expense of Ryou's feelings. He leaned over slightly towards the other, hoping that the others would still be distracted.

"Sorry about this," Marik whispered.

Ryou only smiled and shook his head. "Don't worry about it."

Despite the other's answer giving him somewhat of a relief, the Egyptian still felt a little uneasy. "Let me make it up to you. Are you free after school?"

"Um, I have a club meeting today, but I can tell them that I won't be there."

"Alright. So meet me at the school entrance then?"

"Yeah, that sounds good."

The group managed to change topics, now talking about a conference call later tonight or something of the sort. Not that it really mattered to Marik. After all he got what he wanted: a private chance for information.

* * *

**A/N:** … wow, if that last bit wasn't lazy, then I don't know what is. Anyways, I apologize for the laziness. Summer school is starting up and if I don't do good, I don't get a high school diploma. Pathetic, I know. So for the next month or so, you can expect slower updates. However, I will continue to update the story regardless.


	7. Chapter Six

"Hey! Sorry for keeping you waiting!"

Ryou ran up to Marik, who stood next to the stairwell. To be perfectly honest, Marik wanted to complain about waiting around for the past fifteen minutes, but chose to bite his tongue and fake a smile. During his time waiting for Ryou, he wondered about what he said about a club meeting and what sort of activities he might be doing. When the school's headmaster mentioned school activities, Marik's father gave an automatic "no" as his answer. However, Marik thought that the different club and school organizations were interesting and attracted his attention. Of course, his father would never subject to those kind of activities. "They'll only put ideas in your head," he'd say. Or, "It would just be a waste of time. Whatever. They were all excuses to keep him at home.

"It's no problem," Marik said. "After all, I'm the one that invited you to hang out."

"If you say so." Ryou quickly checked his cell phone then tucked it away. "So, where did you wanna go?"

"Well, maybe we could just hang out at a cafe or something?" Marik rubbed his chin with the back of his palm, hoping his suggestion would suffice. "There's this one by my house that's pretty good."

The other nodded, seeming more happy than usual. "Alright, that sounds good!"

As the two began to walk — they had decided at the end of lunch to go on foot rather than be cluttered with the other students on the bus — Ryou hummed softly, making Marik wary. It was strange to see someone in such high spirits for a majority of the time. Although Marik was certain that Ryou had a more aggressive side to him, it was a portion of the other's personality that was yet to be seen. And yet, it made Marik a bit more relaxed to know that there was someone of the optimistic type. Ryou just became a reminder to him that the world isn't as horrible and bleak as it's made out to be.

"You seem really happy," Marik said, trying to fill the silence between them. "Something happen during class?"

Ryou shook his head. "Not really. I guess I'm just in a good mood."

_Or a default mood_, Marik thought. "Well, that's good. Kinda makes me jealous, y'know."

"Hm, is that so?" Ryou inquired. "I mean, sometimes I get mad or upset, but I just find a way to turn it around." He let out a soft chuckle, remembering something that Marik couldn't picture for himself. "It's just one way of getting through rough times."

_**Now that's an interesting statement.**_

The Egyptian surveyed his surroundings, wondering if there was another person who just happened to join in their conversation. As it turned out, it was just Ryou and himself that were actively talking to each other and each other only. So where did that third voice come from? _Maybe I'm just imagining it_, he thought.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Marik replied. "Sometimes I just listen to music so loud that I block out everything, like I'm submerging deep within the sound."

"Ah, really? You know, my brother does the same thing sometimes." Ryou looked down, a soft smile on his face, his eyes unfocused. "It's funny. Sometimes, I have to punch his shoulder just to tell him that dinner's ready."

"My brother's like that, too," said Marik. "He gets too invested in a book that I end up shaking him or turning off the light so that he can stop and listen."

"Do you have any other siblings?"

Marik rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah, I have an older sister. She's pretty much the one who's taken care of me since I was a kid. Our dad always worked, so she stepped up."

"I know how that feels. My dad is pretty much the same way. He just works and works and works." Ryou paused for a moment, as if to catch his breath, his voice struggling a bit. "Usually, it's just me and my brother."

"Hm, I feel weird just referring him just by 'your older brother,'" said Marik. "What's his given name, if you don't mind me asking?"

Ryou's expression suddenly changed at this question, going from soft and happy to worried and paranoid. "Um... he doesn't really like it when people call him by his name. Just call him Bakura, since everyone calls me by my name."

_That's right_, Marik thought. He remembered reading something about how to address another person in Japanese culture. Not only was it somewhat rude to call someone by their given name, but even more-so without their permission. Then there were all the honorifics that had to be used with certain people and whatnot.

"Sorry if I was being too forward," he said.

"Oh, it's fine. After all, it's hard to tell twins apart, right?" Ryou's expression softened once more. "I can't blame everyone. After all, it's our parents' fault for giving us similar sounding names."

"I guess you're right about that," Marik said, not really know what else to say.

The fair weather was slightly warmer than before, a soft breeze brushing between them. Its coolness was a lovely contrast to the balminess of the sun. It was strange, how this weather would soon change from the comfort of autumn to the frail winter. If there was anything Marik wanted at this moment, it would be for this pleasantness to last.

_Similar sounding names, huh..._

_**It's better than having the same name  
**_

* * *

Marik remained in the doorway, unable to conjure the will to take another step as his father glared at him with an unsettling intensity that he had never seen before. His eyebrows hung low, making his anger apparent. Ishizu and Odion, however, sported more subtle, sympathetic expressions as if they knew what was to come. Marik gulped, as he was the only one in the dark. A nervous smile hesitantly tugged at the unwilling corners of his lips.

"Where have you been?" his father asked.

"I was with a friend," Marik answered, his father growing more tense.

"We're not here to make _friends_. You're supposed to come straight home after class."

"You can't be serious!" Marik exclaimed. "I'm almost an adult! You can't tell me what to do anymore!"

"As long as you live under my roof, you will do as you say!"

_That's just great_, Marik thought. He hated his father for this. Why was it that his father acted like a parent and yet, he hadn't done anything? Marik didn't want to be cooped up in the house for the rest of his life. He didn't want to end up with a job that he hated and doing it for solely financial reasons. He wanted so much more. Why couldn't his father understand that? Why did everything have to be black and white?

"Why? So I can stay here as a prisoner?"

_**That's all you were ever meant to be.**_

_Wh - What...?_ Marik thought. _What was that just now?_

"A _prisoner_? You ungrateful brat! You should consider yourself lucky! I'm doing so much for all of you!"

Marik rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah. You're doing a _great_ job of keeping me locked up—"

Marik instantly regretted allowing those words escape him as his father's fist pulled back and charged at his mouth.. He stumbled back as his father repeated the same motions, only for his siblings to interfere. But by then it was too late. Ishizu found herself looking at an empty doorway, unable to bring herself to move as Marik ran.

The evening air was cold, not that Marik really cared. In fact, the chill of the night felt nice against the heat of his bruised mouth and bleeding lip. He hadn't the slightest idea of where he was going. All that mattered was the fact that he wasn't home. It was funny how a place that should bring one comfort could also cause distress and harm. But the strangest thing that happened was how his siblings were quick to stop their father. Marik couldn't quite wrap his mind around their actions. As children, the three never interfered if one was being punished. So why start now, especially after giving him the silent treatment?

After several blocks, Marik came to a stop, trying to catch his breath. As he continued to venture off, he noticed that there were several people not too far from him, tending to their own business. His curiosity captured him, his legs carrying him closer. However, the more he traveled, the more he could he an echo of suspicious chatter. It was then that Marik questioned the people around him even further.

"Hey! You!"

Marik felt his body tense up at the voice as it resonated around him. Hesitantly, the boy turned around to see its owner, only to be relieved that it wasn't directed at him. Several yards away from him were a group of men wearing hooded sweatshirts. They seemed to be bickering and began to become increasingly hostile towards each other.

"It wasn't my fault that she got away!" one of them shouted.

"Well, if you hadn't actually _let go_ of her, she'd still be here!" another retorted.

"If you paid attention to what she was doing, he wouldn't have gotten away!"

"So what, it's _my_ fault now?"

As they kept spitting their accusations back and forth to each other, Marik began to back away, taking small steps. However, once he tripped, a small scream left his mouth, leaving his hands to cover his lips. But oh, it was too late. The men had spotted him and called out to him, asking what he was doing. And the natural response? Marik ran.

It was futile to run when the men had an advantage ; Marik knew that. But to have his life in danger was enough to make him run, in hopes to live and to keep on living. When you are a stranger in a foreign country, where was he to hide? He wasn't too far from his home, but he had already forgotten where to look. The street signs all looked the same to him.

The footsteps increased in sound, but Marik was far too tired to continue on and began to slow down. It wasn't soon before long that he felt himself being pulled by the hair and pushed to the ground. One of the men had his knee on Marik's back, keeping him pinned down. A few of the men looked in disgust and gave small mutters of disappointed.

"I thought we wanted a _girl_," one of them said. "Not some twink."

"Hey, man. Speak for yourself. I'm cool with anything tonight."

Another one knelt down on one knee in front of Marik, observing his facial features. He grabbed the Egyptian's chin and forced his head up so that he could take a better look.

"Hm, I don't know. This kid looks fresh and just look at those eyes." As the man leaned in closer, Marik attempted to struggle free and tried to bite the man's hand, only to miss his target. His failed attempt only made the group laugh.

"Aw, isn't that cute?"

"Well, I guess he's _kinda _cute."

This wouldn't be the first time this sort of incident had happened. After all, when Marik was younger, his father often commented on how he looked like his own sister when they were kids. Although Marik never took well to the so-called compliment (or insult, depending on how he looked at it), it was true for the most part. He had his aunt's facial features, from his forehead to his pointed chin. But what was most interesting has his eye pigment. They were an unusual violet that often sparked curiosity with strangers. Most think he is just wearing colored contact lenses. But they were as natural as can be, along with his blonde hair.

"Hey, bastards!"

The group of men turned around, only to see another boy coming from the shadows. Marik couldn't lift his head, and yet he prayed that this new person would be someone who could help him.

"What do you want?" said the one holding Marik down. "Did you want to join in on the fun?"

_God, please no_, Marik thought.

"Well actually," the new guy said. "What you have there is _mine_."

"Oh really?" another asked. "Well kid, there's five of us and one of you. And we don't like sharing with strangers."

"Just let him go and no one gets hurt."

_**This...**_

_**This has happened before.**_

_This voice_, Marik thought. _Where is it coming from?_

_**Don't you remember it?**_

A sharp pain visited Marik's head once again, his senses becoming dull. Before he knew it, the men around him tensed up, letting out small gasps. The man who held him down loosened his grip. Marik turned his head curious as to who this person was. Although he wasn't surprised for one reason or another, it was a shock to see Bakura there, defending him. How did he know this was happening? If he actually just happened to pass by, why did he bother helping?

"You think that little knife is going to give you an advantage," someone asked.

"Not really," Bakura said. "But I was thinking of something along the lines of this."

Bakura took off his jacket and tossed it aside, not really caring about where it fell. He took the knife in his hand and brought it to his opposite arm. The others were wary, wondering what he was planning. He then brought the blade to his upper arm, resting it against himself. Without warning, he began to slice through his own skin, letting the blood drip down. An audible collection of gasps and muttering emerged from the group as they all began to separate from each other.

"Now, if I can do that to myself," Bakura went on, "What do you think I could do to you?"

Immediately, the group of men began to retreat back into the shadows, spitting curses of how crazy Bakura was and how they don't mess with the insane or the like. As they left, Marik sat up and began to pat off the dirt and dust from his clothes. He didn't think that Bakura was capable of such things, but what he said resonated with Marik. If he could harm himself, what would stop him from harming others? Then again, why harm yourself to help someone you barely knew?

_**Just think of what he could do to you.  
**_

* * *

**A/N:**I hope y'all enjoyed this so far! Summer school's been alright so far. Then again, it's only been the third day, so yeah. Anyways, hope to see y'all later ;D

Reviews are loved~


	8. Chapter Seven

**_Just think about what he could do to you._**

Marik rubbed his forehead as he surveyed his surroundings. Now, it was just him and Bakura, who was using his handkerchief as a make-shift bandage. He still couldn't process the events that just took place before him. Being assaulted by a group of men... at least that was something along the lines of normal. For sexual purposes, not so much, but at least he could acknowledge that it actually happened. And yet, the fact that Bakura actually helped him — a stranger — in a potentially dangerous situation seemed so out of place... of course, Marik was completely and utterly thankful that Bakura was there, but not even an ounce of it registered properly in his mind.

"You shouldn't be wandering around here at night," Bakura said, breaking the silence. He brushed himself off, smoothing the fabric of his jacket under his palms. Marik just stared at him, wondering why the other wasn't practicing what he was preaching.

"Well, why are _you _here?" Marik countered.

"It just so happens that I'm on my way home from my part-time job." He pointed in the distance, perhaps about a block away from where they were standing. "Lucky for me, I live over there." Bakura then began to walk towards Marik, causing him to tense up. He found it amusing, how the Egyptian still held so much fear. He was like a child that had just been separated from their parent, helplessly lost and wary of everything around them. As he got closer to him, Bakura noticed the other's bruised lip, how it was a various shades of violet, much like his eyes.

"Wow, you really let them fuck you up," he said.

Marik winced at his words, knowing that the other was wrong. He deserved to get hit by his father. He was beyond disrespectful as far as he was taught. Part of him even wanted to think that he would've deserved being attacked by those thugs for running away. That's just what he was taught when he was a kid. If you did something that was out of line, you would be punished for it. No exceptions. So then why did Marik have the luck of Bakura, who just happened to pass by?

"If it weren't for you," Marik began. "It would've been much worse. Tha—"

"—you're right," Bakura said, cutting him off. "Maybe I should've let them rough you up some more. You're too soft." He let out a soft snort as the Egyptian rolled his eyes. With that, he began to continue down the street, not even bothering to look back. In fact, why should he? There was nothing left for him in terms of the events that had come to pass.

Frustrated, Marik began to follow after him, matching his pace. Although Bakura began to pick up speed, Marik continued to follow. That couldn't be it. There had to be more. "Then why did you help," he asked, almost desperately. Why did he even want to know what Bakura's motives were? Sure, he was somewhat interested in the other ever since he saw him break into his house, but was that really it? Just what made him so drawn to this stranger?

**_There's so much that you don't know._**

Bakura continued to ignore Marik. He was understanding that the other had some questions for him, but couldn't it all wait until a later date? Surely, the other was tired and would eventually give up his chase and leave Bakura alone. _Just as I thought_, he told himself. _He's so nosy._

"Why did you say I was _yours_?" Marik shouted.

This time, Bakura stopped in his tracks, leaving the Egyptian to do the same. Although he wasn't particularly prepared to answer any of Marik's questions, Bakura wanted to say something, anything, if it meant that he would just leave him alone. It was all bothersome, really. From the beginning, Bakura knew that anything he did would cause the other to ask questions. So then why go through all of the trouble to make sure that he was alright? "Forget about it," he warned. "Just go home already."

But no, he wouldn't cease. He would remain persistent until he got what he was looking for.

"Speaking of which," Marik continued. "Why were you at my house the other day?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Bakura replied quickly.

"Yes you do!" Marik shouted, not caring if anyone else heard them.

Without either of them noticing, the door that belonged to the house in front of them opened slowly so that one eye peered through, watching them. It wasn't until a few seconds that the door opened fully, Ryou standing in the doorway. Bakura looked up quickly, only to retain his irascible demeanor. "Welcome home," Ryou said quietly, not earning any response from his brother whatsoever. The younger of the two then looked over towards the direction that his brother was facing, noticing that Marik was there as well.

"What's going on," Ryou asked. He took a single step towards them, shivering at the contact of the cold air through his thin pajamas. "Why are you here, Marik?"

The closer he got towards the two, Ryou noticed that not only was his brother injured, but Marik as well. Bakura seemed to pick up on Ryou's sense and let out a small "hmph" as he walked towards the door. "I didn't do shit," he muttered as he went inside.

_Damn it_, Marik thought. _Just when I thought I'd be getting an answer._

Seeing no other option, the Egyptian saw that going back home would be the most reasonable thing to do. However, just as he was about to turn back, Ryou approached him, leaving the front door open and unattended. His gentle, brown eyes looked over Marik's face carefully. He was taken aback by the other's swollen lip, as well as the scratches on his cheeks.

"Why don't you come inside," Ryou invited. "I can give you some ointment or something."

"Oh, that's not necessary," Marik said as he shook his head, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. It wasn't as if he couldn't do it himself. But for some reason, a part of him wanted this sort of attention. His father would rather reprimand him versus tending to his wounds — he proved that as a fact just moments ago.

_... I want to be babied._

"C'mon, it won't take long," Ryou said, tugging at Marik's arm.

"Alright then," Marik said, making the other smile. "Thanks."

As the two entered the house, Marik felt as if the Bakura household suited Ryou perfectly. It was a fairly modest house with a spacious living room filled with necessary furniture that consisted of a sofa, a loveseat and a coffee table, among other things. Ryou lead the other into the kitchen, which was clean and orderly. The counter was nearly spotless, save for a few stains here and there, but still neat nonetheless. Ryou motioned for Marik to sit down at the table as he disappeared into another room, only to return with a medium-sized box with him. He sat down next to his guest and opened the box, emptying it of its contents.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" said Marik as Ryou began to clean his scrapes with alcohol wipes. He winced at first, until he was used to the stinging sensation. It hadn't stung quite as bad as he thought, but it was still uncomfortable.

"Hm? What is it?" Ryou put down the wipes and took out a couple of bandages.

"How come you're being so nice to me," Marik asked, trailing off. It was strange. Although he and Ryou had hung out for while, Marik couldn't tell what they were. Friends? Neighbors? Or is Ryou just really that nice of a person?

"Well, I guess it's because you're letting me," Ryou said, sticking a bandage on Marik's face. For the most part, Marik understood. After all, he could've just rejected the other's kind offers.

"Guess you're right."

"How'd you get so beat up?" Ryou asked. "It wasn't my brother, was it?"

"No," Marik said, his cheeks warming up. "My dad happened. All he wants me to do is study, study, study." He heaved a sigh before continuing. "I left to blow off some steam and these random guys just straight-up attacked me. Your brother was around and he helped me."

"Wow..." Ryou gave him a small look of disbelief, but shook off his doubts moments later. "I'm glad you're both safe. I'm sorry about what happened with your dad."

"It's okay," said the Egyptian, heaving another sigh. "If I just kept my mouth shut, this wouldn't have happened."

"So... what are you going to do now?" asked Ryou. "Because if you need time, you're free to stay here for the night."

Marik shook his head, feeling uneasy. "I shouldn't. You've already helped me so much. I'll just go home and try to sort things out."

"Alright then. If you ever need anything, just say so." Ryou smiled, then gathered the first aid kit and set it on the counter. As his eyes searched for something else, Marik got up from his seat.

"Thanks, y'know," he said. "I had a good time today"

"Me too," Ryou replied with a soft chuckle. He grabbed a pen from the counter and took Marik's hand in his. The sudden movement startled him at first, that is, until he realized what Ryou was doing.

"Send me a text and let me know you got home safe, okay?" he said as he jotted down his cell phone number on Marik's palm.

"I will," Marik said when Ryou was done. "I guess I'll get going now."

Ryou walked him to the front door and waved until Marik turned around, not once looking back. A sort of happiness spilled from his chest, his heart beating a little faster than normal. As Ryou went back inside, he closed the door behind him. Once he looked up, he saw his brother standing in front of him. He had already changed into his sweats and kept the same expression he had when he came home. Embarrassed, Ryou tried to compose himself, not even knowing that there was a smile on his face.

"Do we have anything to eat?" his brother asked gruffly.

"Yeah, I can heat something up for you," Ryou replied. "C'mon, let's go."

"Hey, Ryou," his brother began. "I don't want you hanging around that guy, understand?"

"It's okay," said Ryou. "We're friends."

"I don't like him."

"It's okay, Rou..."


	9. Chapter Eight

Wind.

It was a new sensation for Marik to relish. How it sounded harsh, and yet felt so soft to the touch, as if it were barely even there. After spending only a few moments within it, the young boy realized that the wind held its own voice, that it can whisper as well as howl. As he waited with the camels by a small well, Marik pulled on his hood over his head, afraid to be seen. The last thing he wanted was to go back underground without even a chance to see the sunlight again. But he couldn't help but think about his brother and sister, how they were dealing with his actions. If he were to go back home, would he be welcomed with open arms or would he be locked away out of anger?

_Do they even think of me?_

"Marik."

The young boy turned around, only to see Akefia and his men, holding more bags than they had brought to begin with. They quickly got on their camels. As the rush went on, Marik felt himself being lifted from the ground and was thrown in front of Akefia as they rode off. He protested and began yelling out of surprise, wondering what was going on.

"What happened?" Marik shouted, terrified. The older man kept silent as they rode on.

"Marik!" A voice called out to him.

"Don't you dare look back," Akefia snapped at the young boy.

Just like always, Marik obeyed.

* * *

The next few days passed without any major event whatsoever. If anything, the Ishtar siblings' relationship remained just as strained as it was days before, filled with silence and its persistent, unnecessary tension. To add on to the stress, Marik forced himself to avoid excess contact with his siblings to the point where he barely said a thing. He would only let them know if he was leaving or returning, nothing more.

_What did I do?_

School went on as normal ; he would arrive, tend to his studies and hung around his friends until it was time to go home. However, he would often take a detour home, usually spending some time with Ryou. The two hadn't known each other for very long, but their friendship grew faster than anyone had anticipated. Perhaps it all started on the first day they hung out at the cafe. Since then, going to the cafe became an after school ritual, in which they would meet up and talk about the days events. On the days that Ryou had a club meeting, Marik would either wait in the school's library, using one of the computers or joined in on the club's activities. Either way, Marik anticipated the moment he and Ryou would leave school together.

"So how do you play this game?" Marik inquired, looking over Ryou's shoulder.

"Well basically," the other began. "Your moves depend on the numbers you roll. For instance, you get two of the same numbers, then you can attack the enemy."

"But for your turn to _start_," Yugi cut in. "Also depends on the number you roll. If you roll a high number, the more of a chance you get to go first."

"That seems easy enough," Marik said with a small chuckle.

The Gaming Club had been recently established, as far as the Egyptian knew. Their activities ranged from all sorts of gaming, from cards to mmorpgs to tabletop games. Although he struggled with rules to some of the basic games at first, Marik eventually got into the swing of things and managed to participate whenever he felt the urge to play.

"You should consider joining permanently," Yugi said. "It'd be nice to have more members, since the club's kinda small and all."

"He's right," said Katsuya. "Besides, I'm tired of being called the new recruit."

"I'll think about it." Marik gave his friends a small smile. As much as it would be nice to join the club, he was still unsure. It wasn't as if he cared whether or not his father would object to his decision, if he chose to join. What really bothered him was his current housing situation. How long would he stay here in Japan? Would it be long enough to even finish the term or would he have to leave in a matter of weeks? That was the most frustrating part of constant moves, constant changes ; he would never know how long he could stay in one place.

"Marik, what's wrong?" Ryou asked, waving his hand in front of the other's face. "You're kinda spacing out."

The Egyptian shook his head. "It's nothing. I'm just tired."

Before he even realized it, Marik got up and began to gather his things, much to the other's surprise.

"You're going already?" Yugi asked.

Marik only nodded and left without saying a word, leaving everyone else to be confused.

"What's up with him," Yugi asked Ryou. The white-haired boy just shook his head.

"I don't know," he murmured.

As Marik descended down the staircase, he couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy. His head was pounding along with his heart as his chest tightened. What was going on? It had been a while since he last had a panicking spell. Although he could never find out what the cause was, the Egyptian just assumed that they had just went away, never to be seen again. As his breathing labored, Marik began to unbutton his shirt, hoping that he could breathe more easily. However, his struggle refused to cease. By the time he reached the last flight of stairs, his knees had given up, sucumbing to his anxiety.

_God damn it_, he thought as he sunk to the ground.

He let out a hoarse scream as a call for help. His voice echoed throughout the hallways as he held his head between his hands. Why did this have to happen? Why couldn't this happen or someone else, or better yet, not at all? As his screams travelled, footsteps came from upstairs. He continued on, only to be interrupted by a stinging sensation across his face.

* * *

_Wake up, idiot!_

Marik's eyes shot open as he gasped for air. Once he felt comfortable enough, he let his eyes adjust. There he was, safe and sound in a bed. Was that all just a dream? But if it was, why did his face still sting? He looked over to the side, looking for some kind of clue. To his surprise, he saw Bakura, walking away from his bedside.

"It's about time you woke up," he muttered.

"What the hell's going on?" Marik demanded, looking around the room. It wasn't his home, or any other place he recognized. Where was he? And why was Bakura with him?

"I'm guessing you had another nightmare," Bakura said as he sat down by a desk underneath a large window. He picked up a few papers, examining them closely.

"No, I mean, what am I doing here?" the Egyptian asked.

Bakura let out a small, amused _hmph_.

"Don't you remember? You're my hostage."

* * *

Here it is! Finally, after all this time. Sorry folks, for taking forever on this.  
The good news is that summer school ended and I got my high school diploma :

However, now I must stress over college life. Hopefully, it won't be too bad.  
To help raise money for college, I opened writing commissions, which can be found on my deviantART account ( check my profile!)


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